


In The Dark

by XtaticPearl



Series: Tumblr prompt works [11]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, M/M, Pining, Steve Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 04:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18958306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XtaticPearl/pseuds/XtaticPearl
Summary: Steve has a fear and a truth buried deep in his heart but Tony doesn't seem to be awake enough to notice both.





	In The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: things you said when you thought i was asleep

Simple didn't mean soon and it was a fact that had followed Steve through ice, dust, and now to a quietly lit room where the time travel planning was supposed to happen. Rocket and Thor were in the kitchen, one draining the fridge dry while the other probably took apart the Keurig. Scott was somewhere deep in the basement with Clint and Rhodey, hopefully not getting pranked by the duo. Bruce had tried to keep up the work but - it had been 36 hours and Doctor Hulk was snoring into the wall as he sprawled on the floor. 

Steve took in the sight in front of him and felt his lips quirk at the way Natasha had curled into half a ball on the table, dangerously close to pushing the other occupant off the edge in her fatigue fuelled sleep. Tony, surprisingly oblivious to Natasha's knees digging into his back, dozed on. 

Everybody else had taken care to nap when needed, even Clint despite his edge, but the three in front of Steve had been desperately determined. Bruce was nervous about the whole thing and he dealt with it by quadruple checking everything. Natasha was a menace when she dug her heels into a project, more so than Steve, and she was determined to keep working alongside Bruce. And then there was Tony, burning through the construction and restructuring of the portal needed for the time travel to work, not to mention the complete rework of all the suits. He was running high on adrenaline ultimately leading to crashing into a much needed sleep. 

They looked like stubborn kids who had taken on the challenge of finishing a year's worth of projects in a night and had ultimately remembered that they were human beings. Steve felt his smile deepen as Natasha burrowed deeper into Tony's back and the genius edged away in his sleep with a mumbled whine. 

But then the table ended, Tony slipping off. Steve hadn't decided to move but his feet snapped to action and his hands were outstretched, bent to cup Tony's form when he rolled onto Steve's arm. His legs were still on the table's edge, hips half dangling off the table and chin pressed into Steve's chest. Steve bent lower to get a better hold under Tony's knees but it only served to make the shorter man rest his head completely against Steve's armpit. 

Steve looked over at Natasha and Bruce but neither of them budged an inch from their slumber, Nat now turning over onto her stomach thanks to the extra space. Making a decision, Steve rearranged Tony's askew limbs as best as he could before scooping him up, intending to put him on a bed in one of the nearest rooms. Sleeping in a chair wouldn't help his back and Tony never woke up well if he slept on a floor. Steve remembered that from the Tower all those years ago and swallowed the lump of memories threatening to spill over. 

Somewhere between getting out of the conference room and finding the first bedroom, Tony's right arm had curled over Steve's shoulder with a warm hand brushing over the nape. His other arm was squished between his body and Steve's middle, but he didn't seem perturbed in his sleep, eyes still closed and mouth relaxed against Steve's collar where he seemed poised to drool. Steve adjusted his hold when they reached the door and opened the handle with a hand quickly before pushing his way into the darkened room. It had been Vision's, he remembered, and the floorboard lit up along the edges as he walked over to the bed. Tony had argued with Vision about it, when they had all first moved in. Steve didn't have to close his eyes to see the memory clearly, both men discussing the need for a proper bed and furniture in the room. Vision had been blatant about his lack of need regarding sleep but Tony had been insistent. 

Steve had known even then that it had been the man's desperate attempt to provide, to try and make this a home even when he didn't believe it would fully be accepted as one. It had been a slow realization but now - 

"Friday, lower the temperature, please," he said quietly as he reached the bed and felt the room fill with a pleasant coolness. Half climbing the bed himself, Steve lowered the lax body in his arms onto the soft covers, freeing one arm to pull two pillows and tuck it under Tony's head. The duvet was brown,  shade Tony would never have chosen for his own room, but it felt warm and Steve coaxed it from under the man's legs to pull it over his torso. His eyes caught notice of the glasses jammed into Tony's collar and Steve shook his head as he removed it to place it on the bedside table. He was about to turn and get up when Tony rolled over, an arm wrapping around Steve's hips and a thigh. Steve looked down to see the man pull himself close to Steve's body with a grumble before pushing his face into Steve's waist with a sigh. 

"Tony?" Steve whispered, a hand hovering over Tony's arm and eyes flitting over his face, "Hey, come on, you  - I should go."

There was no response but Steve felt Tony's peaceful exhale over his shirt and even the layer of clothing wasn't enough to mask the warmth. His heart in his throat, Steve hesitated another minute before he felt Tony's nose rubbing into his shirt and he had to swallow a knot of emotions. Slowly, feeling like a thief of some unknown luck, Steve lowered his hand onto Tony's arm and swallowed hard again when he felt the relaxation in the awkward embrace he had become part of. 

"What am I doing?" he asked softly, to an empty room where nobody could hear him and the only one who needed to was somehow too far even as he was too close. Tony was warm, trusting and alive beneath his palm, a content abandonment of suspicion or fear in his sleep. He was holding on to Steve, not a desperate clutch to his fingers but rather a confident demand of space. Like it was his claim. Like it was meant for him and he knew it. Steve wondered if he would have this same calm with his eyes open, looking up at Steve. 

The last time Tony had looked up to him, it had ended in a broken heart in more ways than he had thought possible. He wondered if Tony had forgotten. If that was possible despite forgiveness. 

"I -," Steve shouldn't speak, he knew he shouldn't and nothing mattered but his hand was fighting hard to not cling to Tony's arm and his eyes were trying to not cloud so he had to let something go, "I miss you."

God, could he be any more inadequate? Seven years of nothing more than missed chances and made-up reasons, and he still couldn't fill three words with the right meaning. 

"I think I can't stop lying," he said, a buried fear wriggling out of his throat as he stared at the other side of the bed, empty and cold in a familiarity deep within him, "I keep getting better at it and everyone seems to believe me. Sometimes I believe myself too. It's getting difficult to not, nowadays."

Natasha didn't sometimes, he thought. She had lived around liars and grown over their reaches for a lifetime, so there were times when her eyes would look through Steve's words. She would see him and Steve would think that it would be it, the moment when he could be pulled down. But she wouldn't. She was raised to be a liar too, even if one too kind, and she had learned to look past Steve's lies. 

It felt like a punishment somedays. He didn't know why she wouldn't see that or maybe she saw that and knew that he needed it too much. Maybe liars wouldn't survive the truth after too long. 

His hand was rubbing small strokes over Tony's arm and he felt the warmth seep through, a contact much different to the heat of a ripped out reactor pulsing in his palm. That was the last time Steve's truth had seen the light. 

Tony had seen it in him what he feared he couldn't see himself. A liar. 

But sometimes lying kept you alive and Steve had lived, as his support group would testify. He was there. Present. Moving. 

A lie. 

"What does a second chance feel like?" he asked and his words would choke him one day, too many stuck to his throat and the roof of his tongue tasting like regrets, like wishes. "Can we get more than one second chance?" he wondered even though it felt like a plea, a request to someone who couldn't grant it. Wouldn't? Maybe shouldn't. 

Tony shifted closer, just an inch, and Steve risked it. He could die tomorrow, he reasoned. He was already a culprit for more things than this. He would be remembered for bigger crimes than this one second of mercy. 

He brought up his free hand and softly ran it over Tony's hair, fingertips brushing down the edges of his sideburns and stopped it over his cheekbone, just shy of the laugh lines that had smoothed out in his sleep. 

 _I wish you would smile_ , Steve thought, _I wish I could leave that as a memory of mine_. 

"I miss you," he repeated and he was a coward, had been one for so long that it was in his bones. A brave soldier and a cowardly lov -

The word lodged into his heart and Steve wanted to run. He couldn't love. Not now, not him. It was not - he couldn't - dammit. 

"I love you," he whispered, a confession in the dark and Steve wondered why Tony couldn't hear his breath freezing in ice-touched lungs. "I love you, I'm sorry," the words were freeing and Steve would look Tony in the eye tomorrow again as a liar, safe from the consequences of this moment but he had to say it again, "I can't - I love you, Tony, _God_."

He had to get up. He had to let go now, before he couldn't, before he _couldn't_ do it again. Steve bit his lip as he carefully pulled himself free from Tony's hold and climbed off the bed, feet stable even as his head hurt with the unlocked secrets. He shot Tony one last look, one more memory of a false truth, before turning away to leave. 

He would go back to being a liar in the morning. 

He went back to his own room and shut his eyes against the image of a missed chance curled around him. Somewhere below in a quiet room, a sighed exhale went unnoticed. 

"Steve"


End file.
